


hold me down, throw me in the deep end & watch me drown

by honeysparks



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alcoholism, Alternate Universe- Therapy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Genderbending, Genderswap, Girlfriends Helping Each Other Heal, Hurt Luke, Hurt Michael, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nightmares, Self-Doubt, Self-Harm, Support Group, Therapy, i don't think this needs to be tagged as underage, i have no clue pls do let me know, the age of consent in australia is sixteen right??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8714785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysparks/pseuds/honeysparks
Summary: Luke is hurting, and god knows so is Michael, but being together makes the pain a little less vivid.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was an emotional rollercoaster to write & i still get a lil bit misty eyed reading it,, but i hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> title from 'hold me down' by halsey

_Fucking support group_ , was all Luke could think.

The sleeves of her sweater were pulled down all the way to the middle of her hands where her fingers were clenched tight around the hems. The room was quiet, the fluorescent lights blazing the fuck down and making her eyes hurt. She bit her lip, taking a seat on one of the chairs making up a circle in the centre of the room.

There were a few other people present already, but Luke didn't feel like talking to anyone. She sat there cross-legged on the uncomfortable plastic chair for a while more, just watching the long hand on the clock tick and tick and tick, until finally it was nine in the morning. People had begun filing in more frequently since about ten minutes ago, and by the time it was five past nine, the chairs around her had been filled with people of all size and colour.

On Luke's right was a Hispanic girl who looked -and smelled- like she was definitely high. She was picking at her brightly coloured nails and humming songs by The Beatles. On her left was an empty seat, thank the heavens. Luke decided that she wasn't going to pay attention to anyone else; it was taking too much energy to be awake and functioning in the first place. She'd taken her medicine way too late the night before, and so she was still a little drowsy.

Rubbing at her eyes, Luke groaned and looked up from her lap to stretch her neck, which was growing stiff, and. Fuck. Holy shit. Oh, my god.

Staring right back at her, all the way across the circle, was the most beautifully striking pair of green eyes Luke had ever seen. They belonged to a girl with platinum blonde hair wearing a Nirvana shirt and bubblegum popped across her pouted lips. She was looking at Luke with a faint smile and an inquisitive arched eyebrow.

Luke checked behind herself to make sure that the girl was actually looking at her, and not somebody else. When she looked back up across the circle, Green Eyes was nodding slowly, like she was confirming the thought. Luke blushed.

 _Blushed_.

-

Twenty five minutes into the session and Luke was falling asleep. By then the meds had worn off, but the sheer boredom of the situation was driving her insane. When the words 'tea break' and 'ten minutes' rang through the air, Luke couldn't have been more glad. She sat up straight, stretching her arms out above her head and her legs in front of her.

"Hi."

Luke jumped, making a little chirping sound akin to that of a surprised cat. Green Eyes was on the chair beside her, legs swinging under the seat and eyes fucking sparkling. "H-Hey," Luke stuttered, biting her lower lip. She didn't know why she was so nervous, but, well, she was.

"I'm Michael."

"Luke. Hemmings. Uh, L-Luke Hemmings," Luke stuttered stupidly, sure that her face was turning a hundred shades of red. "I, um, like your shirt."

Michael rolled her eyes, "Please tell me you know another song besides 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'."

"'Come As You Are' is my favourite," Luke grinned, resisting the urge to stare at Michael.

Both girls looked up with disdain written all over their faces when the support group was called to resume. Michael got up, beginning to head to her original seat when Luke gathered the courage to reach out and take her wrist.

"Sit with me? Please? I-If you wanna, I mean."

The smile Michael gave her, wrinkles by her eyes and all, was worth everything. She plopped back onto the seat beside Luke, where she'd been, and slung an arm around Luke's shoulders. Luke wanted to scream with childish joy. Instead, she smiled and leaned against Michael's shoulder.

-

"So, Luke, would you like to share about your week?" Mr. Always Too Chipper was leering eagerly at Luke, nodding somewhat encouragingly and spreading his hands out in front of him to exaggerate his point. "Anything interesting happen to you?"

Luke shrugged, sitting up straighter and playing with the hem of her sleeves. "Nothing, uh, cool. I... I had therapy twice? Um, my meds dosage went up again? I... Yeah. Yeah." She could feel tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them away hastily.

"Luke, Luke, are you okay?" Michael was whispering beside her, rubbing the inside of her wrist soothingly. "Need a bathroom break?"

With Mr. Always Too Chipper nodding faux-sympathetically at the two girls, Luke was pretty much way too glad to say yes to that. But before they could escape, Michael was being held hostage with the impending question of doom: "How are you going?"

Snorting, Michael sat back in her seat and raised an eyebrow at the warden of the support group, lazily twisting a finger through her hair. "I'm going good, babe, and life is fucking _super_! That's exactly why I'm here, isn't it?" As the group leader was about to open his mouth in protest, Michael waved a hand and continued; "And, you know, I only drank my way through the entire week. It's nothing major."

Luke frowned at that, looking at Michael with a worried expression at that. Drinking? She drank?

"C'mon, sweet thing, let's go. Bathroom break calls."

And Luke was all too happy to oblige, her hand in Michael's smaller but much warmer one. They reached the bathroom after a couple minutes of getting ridiculously lost in the winding, endless corridors. Breathless, the two girls burst into the dimly lit bathroom with fading laughs.

"So, let me get this straight: you've been coming here for like two months already, and not once did you go to the bathroom?" Michael chuckled in disbelief. Luke simply shook her head innocently, looking in the mirror and cringing at what she saw. A blank-eyed, tired looking chick with a pretentious lip ring and a bedhead.

Michael was eyeing her up and down. "Stop giving yourself that stupid sour face, Hemmings," she groaned, stepping closer and throwing her arms around her waist from behind. Luke squealed, half in surprise and the other half in embarrassment. "You look so fucking hot, I swear."

And there Luke was, blushing again. She hung her head, not wanting to have to look at herself in the mirror anymore. "Trying to get in my pants already, Michael?" She hummed softly, turning around and playfully pecking her cheek before turning to the door. "We should get back."

Groaning exaggeratedly, Michael followed sulkily. "Only if you let me sit next to you again next week."

-

The following Saturday, Luke was there early, as usual. She sat at the same place she had the week before, hoping that all that had happened with Michael hadn't been just a one-time thing. With all the voices spinning around her head and the nonsense that she called her life, it was a breath of fresh air to be around the green-eyed girl.

To her relief, Michael showed up at exactly nine, taking the seat on Luke's right and lacing their fingers together immediately. "Alright," she huffed, puffing her chest up in a comical way that made Luke giggle, "Get ready to fake positivity."

To say that Luke was more awake this time round would've been a dire understatement. She was alert; pupils blown wide and everything. Maybe it was because she had taken her medicine on time the night before, or maybe it had something to do with the way Michael kept running her fingers across the underside of Luke's arm.

When the dreaded 'how-has-your-week-been' question arose, Luke gave her standard answer, stutters and everything. And Michael?

"Well," she had started, clearing her throat and toying with the eyebrow piercing Luke hadn't realised she had, "It's been plain awesome. I drank, obviously, but that's what made it awesome. And that's also, obviously, why I'm here. Again."

Luke scowled at that just like she had the week before. Why did Michael drink? And was that Michael's problem? The way Luke's anxiety and crippling depression was her problem? She was going to figure it out somehow.

"Keep coming back, Mikey," the group leader said with a sympathetic sigh. "Just keep coming back here."

It only riled Michael up more. "My name is Michael. Not Mikey. And it's not like I have a fucking choice, do I?" And then she was storming out of the room.

Luke watched, her hands fiddling nervously. Michael had taken a right at the end of the corridor, which meant that she wasn't going to the bathroom. The bathroom was on the left. Where was she going?

Frowning, Luke stood up before realising that she'd only been thinking in her head, and not aloud. "I-I'm going to the... Bathroom. Yeah, the.. Bathroom," she stuttered helplessly, cheeks ablaze, and then she was dashing out of the room, carried by lanky legs and worry.

When she finally caught up to Michael, she found the green-eyed girl outside, leaning against a tree and sipping from a small steel flask. "Fuck," Michael swore as she saw Luke, but made no attempt to hide the flask.

"Are you, um, okay?" Luke asked before shaking her head and running a hand through her hair before realising that it was in a braid, and by ruffling it, she'd messed it all up. "Oh, crap."

Michael laughed, pocketing her flask after a particularly long sip. "Here," she sighed, undoing Luke's hair and telling her to hold still so she could do it again, despite Luke's protests. "Why'd you come after me?"

Luke didn't really know.

(Maybe because Michael had soft hands and a nice laugh. Or maybe just because Michael was warm, in every sense of the word, and Michael was... Well, Michael.)

"I... Just did." Was all Luke managed to get out. She had taken so long to reply that Michael had redone her braid, and was snapping on the rubber band that held it back into place. "Sorry, crap, should I go back?" Guilt was starting to flood through her stomach, and Luke suddenly felt very queasy and very terrible.

"Nah," Michael was rolling her eyes, but her playful demeanour stopped short as soon as she saw Luke's paled expression. "Hey, Luke, babe, what's going on? You okay? You with me?" She gushed, placing a hand on either of Luke's shoulders and holding her firmly.

Luke nodded, closing her eyes and trying desperately to hold on to the thread being offered to her. _Breathe_ , she told herself, _Breathe, you absolute idiot._ She felt so stupid and annoying. Michael had gone outside for some time alone because she was upset, and then there was Luke, eager and pathetic and making everything about herself.

"Hemmings? Babe?"

Luke snapped herself out of it, nodding at Michael and swallowing the lump in her throat. "Yep. Here. Sorry."

Michael's smirk was hollow, her words raspy. "Good," she nodded, her hands slipping down from Luke's shoulders to her waist, where they ghosted over her skin.

Luke swore her heart was beating faster than it had in a long time. Hell, she couldn't remember the last time she even felt her heart palpitating in her chest. She was caught in Michael's gaze, blazing green eyes staring right into baby blue ones.

Slowly, gently, Michael held Luke's chin between her index finger and her thumb as she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Luke wanted to feel something. And she did, oh, she did. She felt the twisted burning in her stomach that was more than just a couple of butterflies, and she felt the hungry want in the back of her mind that wanted more.

But she also tasted alcohol on Michael's lips, and she was sure that she would've tasted alcohol on Michael's tongue, too. She couldn't get it out of her head. How could someone so beautiful and confident in themselves have to rely on a drink to get through the week?

-

Michael sat next to Luke every Saturday. They held hands every week, and used the bathroom breaks for nothing but kissing and makeshift cuddles in the janitor's closet. On weekdays, they texted each other through the day, and Michael called Luke nearly every evening.

It was good, Luke thought. But good never really lasted, did it? She was beginning to worry more and more about Michael, especially because their calls were becoming earlier and earlier in the evening as Michael got more and more wasted each night.

"My mom's gonna wanna meet you eventually, you know," Michael was humming against Luke's shoulder as the two girls sat on the curb outside the building, both waiting for their parents respectively.

Luke's heartbeat sped up as she bit her lip nervously. "Why?" She practically squeaked, wincing at how pathetic she sounded. She hadn't been paying attention to what Michael was saying, and last she recalled, the green-eyed beauty had been droning on about some game called League Of Legends.

Michael shrugged, "She's been asking 'bout you. Wants to know why I seem happy when I'm back from this shithole of a support group, I guess."

There was the tiniest hint of fondness in Michael's voice as she spoke, no matter how bitter the words sounded. Luke hung on to that as she nodded, doing her best to mask her growing insecurity. "It's... I-I'm nothing special," she muttered, shaking her head, "Anyone could make you smile. You have a beautiful smile."

Gently tilting Luke's head toward her, Michael placed a gentle kiss on the fretting blonde's lips. "Mmhm," she nodded in agreement, eyebrows raised, "But not anyone could make me happy. Luke, _you_ make me happy." As she whispered, her lips brushed against Luke's every now and then.

Neither one seemed to want to move away, and eventually Luke sighed against Michael's lips and, with a small grunt of frustration, clambered onto her lap. "Okay," she mumbled between messy kisses as Michael placed a hand on either side of herself to steady them both, "Let me keep on making you happy, then."

Michael giggled, brushing stray strands of hair from Luke's face. "Follow me home?"

She didn't have to ask twice. Luke rang her parents who, all too glad for their daughter to have made a friend, agreed after a brief conversation with Michael's mum.

The car ride back wasn't as painful as Luke's anxious, rattling mind warned her it would be. Michael's mum seemed nice, and she didn't ask that many questions beside the basic "How are your studies?" and "Are you doing alright?"

As soon as they got to Michael's place, both girls raced upstairs, with Michael in the lead and Luke, breathless as she was, in tow.

"This is my room. Well, it's more like..."

"An entire wing of the damn house?" Luke finished, leaning against the doorway to Michael's bedroom. The place was huge, compared to Luke's own single room with just her bed, bookshelf, and desk. Michael had her own bathroom, study room, and kitchenette. Luke couldn't believe her eyes. The girl could probably live on her own, even!

Michael sighed, sitting back on her bed and shrugging with that careless pout that Luke had grown oh-so used to. "Well, there used to be three of us in this place, but when it came down to just two people -my mum and I- we basically split the house in half."

Luke frowned, still at the doorway. "I'm sorry about your dad."

Michael honestly, swear-to-god, hissed. The sound threw Luke off more than just a little, and she stared at Michael, startled.

"Don't talk about him. 'M glad the fucker left." Michael was growling with a disgusted expression. She looked up at Luke a couple of beats later, her intense stare melting immediately into one of concern. "Fuck, I'm sorry if I scared you. I'm up to my neck in daddy issues," she said with a small scowl.

Luke just nodded, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

"Hey, I'm really sorry," Michael sighed as she got off the bed and strolled over to Luke, placing a hand on either side of the taller girl's waist. "I really didn't mean to-"

Luke figured the most effective and least confronting thing to do would be to kiss Michael. (And hey, apparently it'd shut her up, too.) It started out as more of a curious thing, with the kisses being gentle and inquisitive, and then.

Hands cupped faces which lead to arms pulling bodies closer which lead to staggering towards the bed and collapsing which lead to desperate fumbling at zips and buttons and tight jeans which lead to kissed at the neck that made Michael whimper and hips rutting on thighs that made Luke móan.

-

After, Luke pulled on one of Michael's band t-shirts on along with her underwear, and they fell asleep together under the covers, fingers and legs intertwined.

-

Things were different after that. Luke had expected it, of course, but she'd never, not once in a million years, have expected the joyride it would've taken her on. Every day felt like a new high, an entirely different Cloud 9. She couldn't believe it, but she was actually, genuinely happy. The voices in her head that once whispered insulting, patronising things always day long were now silent for the most part, and it was all thanks to Michael, the green-eyed angel that had found her way into Luke's life.

It wasn't only Luke who felt the change. Her family were beyond glad, and even the stupid group leader at support group noticed the differences in the way she spoke, laughed, and even in the way she carried herself. 

Luke just wished she could say the same for Michael.

Even though they were spending more and more time with one another, there was still so much going on in the green-eyed girl's life that Luke knew wasn't all sunshine and butterflies. Their calls in the evening were faltering, and though the text messages showed nothing worrying, Luke could sense that things were going awry. Michael was staying up, and maybe out, later and later, and she sounded sicker each morning when Luke called to check if she was alright.

Luke knew it was the drinking. That's what Michael was going to support group for, just like how Luke was there for her depression. Michael had a problem controlling her alcohol, especially when she was facing problems with other areas in her life. But Luke just didn't know what she could do to help.

"You _are_ helping, babe," Michael would say every time Luke brought the subject up. She'd run her fingers through the younger girl's hair and kiss her forehead and lace their hands together. "You're helping, don't you worry about me."

Luke's reply was always a huff and a disgruntled, "Yeah, okay..." And then Michael was changing the subject.

-

Luke felt like sunshine was spreading through every crack of her body every time she thought of Michael, and how she got to call that beautiful smile and gorgeous laugh hers. (Clouds, clouds all over the sky when Michael hiccuped or groaned from a hangover that never seemed to fade.)

She felt like she was a desert receiving rain after a drought every time Michael kissed her deeply, arms around her waist. (Thunder, thunder and lightning when she tasted alcohol on Michael's mouth, no matter how strong or faint it was.)

They spent nearly all their time together, either sprawled out on the floor in Michael's room, listening to vinyls on her gramophone, or in a corner of Luke's room, taking turns reading Ernest Hemingway and Michael Faudet to one another. And neither would have had it any other way, not even if they were given a chance to change a second of it all.

Slowly, piece by careful piece, Luke began to assemble the pieces that made up her calloused, scarred lover. Michael was always hesitant to release bits of new information about herself, whether it was a colour she despised or a secret from when she was ten. But Luke, understanding and patient as she was, waited and assured Michael that everything was alright, and she wasn't going to pack up and leave the moment the room became dark.

It took a long while, but Michael began to open herself up more and more. Though Luke had fallen for the witty jokes and sarcastic chuckles, and for the girl with the eyebrow piercing and alternative taste in music, she also definitely continued to fall for the girl with a damaged past and nights spent sobbing. For every layer that Michael stripped off to bare herself in all that she was, Luke held her a little tighter.

-

"Hey, I'll be over in five, okay?" Luke sent the voicemail and threw her phone onto the passenger seat, starting up the engine and beginning the drive over to Michael's house. It wasn't at all a long drive; about ten minutes at most. Michael _had_ said that Luke was allowed to go over anytime, but the blue-eyed girl still felt like she should keep the formality of asking. Even if it was a Friday evening.

Once she'd pulled into the driveway, she wasted no time in getting the gift bag she'd brought for Michael and letting herself into the house. Luke was in a relatively good mood that day, since it was the three-month anniversary of her and Michael becoming... Well, friends.

"Mike?" Luke called, beginning to head up the stairs as she hummed a soft song under her breath. "Mikey, I'm here, I let myself in, if that's alright!" She didn't think much of it when the older girl didn't respond immediately, as there was a chance that she was listening to music in her room or something else that would be distracting her.

It was when she heard the sobbing that she knew something was definitely wrong.

Dashing up the remainder of the stairs and nearly tripping as she reached the landing, Luke didn't even bother knocking before she opened the door. Her heart dropped to her stomach as she saw Michael curled up in a corner of the room, a bottle beside her and tears streaming down her face.

"Hey, hey," Luke whispered in a hushed voice. Her throat was blocked and her voice felt all thick and strange, but she had to do this. She had to be strong for Michael. "Hey, babe, crap, what's wrong? What's going on?"

Michael shook her head, hiccupping and crawling over to Luke so she was half-laying on her lap. She wouldn't say a thing. Eventually, she reached over, making pathetic little grabby hands for the bottle. Luke shoved it away harshly, causing it to tip over so that some of the vodka spilled on the wooden floor before she caught it and set it upright on the bedside cabinet. "No," Luke chided, taking Michael's hands in her own.

Michael whimpered, "Please," she whispered, her voice cracking at the edges.

Luke was scared. She had never seen this side of Michael, and while abandoning her or pushing her away later on was totally out of the question, she really didn't know how to deal with it. "No, Mikey, you can't have the drink, you shouldn't have to... Just... No, okay?" She stuttered hopelessly, getting up and taking the bottle with her, despite Michael's tiny pleas.

She helped her up onto the bed, tucking her underneath the covers and promising to be back in a minute. Then she went downstairs, leaving the quarter-full bottle on the sink and getting a glass of water and two aspirin before returning to Michael's room and letting her take the pills.

"So, what brought this on?" Luke asked nervously, only receiving a grunt and a flop of the hands from the girl on the bed. "I-I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't ask now. Get some rest first, yeah? Please?"

Michael nodded miserably, pulling the sheets beside her down and patting the space softly. "C'mere," she sighed, her words barely louder than a plain whisper. "Please, Luke."

Luke obliged, of course. She crawled under the sheets and wrapped her arms around Michael, who was hiccupping quietly. It took a while, but then Luke realised that she was mumbling under her breath.

"I'm sorry," she was whispering, her voice breaking every time, "I couldn't stay sober, I fucked up, I'm a fuck up, I'm- I'm a fuck up."

Luke's heart was breaking by the goddamned second. "Shh, Michael, please, just... Shh," she begged, rubbing her hands over Michael's arms soothingly, "Sleep, alright?"

Michael nodded again, pausing in her terrible recitation to blink lazily at Luke. "Will you be here-"

"When you wake up? Yes. Yes, I will, I promise." Luke hushed her, running her fingers through Michael's beautiful platinum hair until the weeping girl was asleep, soft snores leaving her parted lips. As she slept, her hand remained clasped tightly in Luke's, as if she didn't ever want her to leave.

-

Michael spoke in her sleep.

At first it was little phrases and mumbled protests, but as time progressed, her whimpers turned into full-blown cries for help and sorrowful strolls down memory lane.

"I'm sorry, dad," she cried, tossing and turning and clinging on to Luke's hand harder than ever, "I didn't mean to- He needed help! I couldn't stand there and do nothing... No, don't hurt me, don't hurt me please PUT THE BOTTLE DOWN!"

At the last yell, Michael jerked awake, panting for breath and startling Luke. The younger girl had been dozing off, caught in that space between consciousness and its opposite. She groaned at the sudden movement, but sat up straight in alarm when she saw how Michael was.

"'M here," Luke sighed sleepily, pulling Michael closer to her and rubbing her back gently. "How're you feeling now?"

Michael chuckled bitterly, "Like I'm getting bashed by a ten tonne lorry of the mother of all hangovers. What about you?" She stretched her arms out in front of her before curling up beside Luke, her posture and sleepy demeanour not unlike that of a cat.

Luke pushed some stray strands of hair back behind her ear. "This isn't about me. Talk to me, Mikey, please?" When Michael nodded with a 'go on' motion, she continued. "Why were you, um, drinking? Did something h-happen?"

The older girl only laughed again, the sound even more bitter and mocking than before. "You really don't get it, huh?" She sighed heavily. "This isn't something special, buttercup. Why do you think my mother sends me to fucking support group? This is a regular day for me. This- This getting hammered? It happens with or without you."

Everything that Michael was saying made Luke want to cry, and though tears had already begun to pool in her eyes, the floodgates really only let loose at the last sentence.

 _With or without you_ , Michael had said. _With. Or. Without. You._

"There has to be some way I can help you," Luke persisted, shaking her head and drying her cheeks. She refused to cry; Michael was the one that needed comforting in that situation, and if Luke cried, it would be entirely selfish. "Please, you have to let me help you."

"You can't." Michael insisted with a snappy, almost robotic shrug. "If doctors and therapists and magic pills can't help, neither can you, sweetheart. You... You just can't."

Luke grit her teeth and took Michael's hands in her own. She sat so she was facing her, and then she spoke slowly and clearly, so they would both hear every word. "I have something they don't," she said, smiling a little as she leaned closer to the other girl, " _I love you_."

Michael stopped breathing for a moment, Luke swore. Then she started sobbing again, but not the heavy, miserable kind of sobbing. The light, disbelieving kind. Luke pulled her in closer so Michael was resting her head on Luke's chest. She ran her fingers through the crying girl's hair, frowning and wondering what in the world she could have said wrong.

She only asked once Michael's tiny sobs had turned into whimpers. "What, uh, what did I say?"

Michael scoffed, a small heavyhearted sound. "It's just- Do you mean that? Like, mean, _mean_ that?"

Luke raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Why wouldn't I?"

It took a while for the reply to come in, but it eventually did. Michael ran a hand through her hair, twisting the ends nervously. She looked up at Luke, and the younger girl swore that she'd never seen eyes so fucking green. "Because I've had a hell lot of experience with people who didn't mean it."

For what seemed like the millionth time that day, Luke's heart felt like it was breaking into hundreds of pieces. She wanted to find whoever it was that had hurt this precious angel so bad, and she wanted to fuck them up as bad as the damage they had done to her. It just wasn't fair, dammit. It wasn't fair at all.

But Luke couldn't say all that without her voice trembling and her hands shaking, and she knew that for Michael's sake, she couldn't afford to be someone violent and angry at that moment. She had to be a safe place, a panic room. And even if that took courage and patience, she was going to do it.

For Michael.

"Well," Luke said, steeling her voice and kissing Michael's cheek, "I mean it. I love you, I do."

-

"Hey, so, mum, I'm spending the night at Michael's, yeah?" Luke was sitting on the edge of the bed while Michael took a shower. The older girl had said that the warm water would help clear her head and make her feel a tad bit better after the episode she'd had. "Yes," Luke sighed, swinging her legs under the bed. "Yeah, we'll go straight to support group tomorrow morning and then you can pick me up from there? Wait- Yeah, the car is with me, I'll drive back. Alright, see you tomorrow, then, bye!"

She flopped the phone down onto the bed behind her and looked at the bathroom door. Michael had only been in there for ten minutes, but ten minutes could be a long time for someone that was not feeling too good. Luke went to the door gingerly, knocking softly on the door. "Mikey? You alright?"

"Yeah, Luke. Be out soon."

Luke hesitated. That was exactly the same kind of answer she'd given her parents when they'd asked the same question. "Okay," she answered, biting her lower lip and going back to the bed. She sighed, eventually turning to the clothes Michael had laid on the bed for her. There was a pair of shorts and a band t-shirt. Coincidentally, the same t-shirt that Luke had worn the first time after her and Michael had... Well. Luke blushed.

Since Michael was still in the shower, she figured she'd just change her clothes in the room. She had gotten her top off and was halfway to pulling her shorts down when she heard a door click open. Horrified, Luke let out a pathetic yelp as her heart began racing at the thought of Michael's mum catching her almost all the way undressed. To her relief, it was only Michael coming out of the shower, her hair in a messy bun and her cheeks flushed from the hot water.

"Couldn't even wait for me, huh?" Michael teased, her voice still thick from tears but a small smile beginning to take over her face.

Luke blushed brighter, "I-It's not like that! I swear, oh my god," she covered her cheeks with her hands, embarrassed further with how hot her cheeks were burning. "I was going to change into the clothes you left for me!"

Michael winked, pulling her underwear on under her towel. "Sure thing," she smiled, and then let the towel drop.

Luke hadn't meant to see, of course. She really hadn't.

But fuck, goddamn, she was human, and she had eyes. Eyes that trailed down Michael's bare shoulders to her chest. Water droplets sprinkled across her chest and down to her stomach.

"Who's staring now?"

Luke rolled her eyes, pulling Michael's t-shirt on over her head. "Did you pick this out on purpose?" She asked with a laugh, slipping on the pair of shorts that Michael had left on the bed for her.

Michael only shrugged in response, a cheeky glint in her eye. (Luke assumed that meant yes.)

Once they were both dressed, Luke wasted no time in going over to Michael and wrapping her arms around her waist. "I love you," she hummed.

"Really?"

"Really really."

"Fuck," Michael swore, and Luke was worried for a second before the older girl continued; "Now we're quoting 'Shrek'."

-

"Luke?"

They were both curled up underneath the covers, tucked into one another and lazily falling asleep, when Michael shook Luke's waist gently. The younger girl hummed softly, opening her eyes and smiling at Michael. "Yeah?"

"I think..." The words came slowly and hesitantly, but something in Michael's voice made Luke sure that she wasn't talking gibberish. "Don't laugh, okay? Promise?"

Luke smiled, "Cross my heart and pinky promise."

Michael nodded, looking down and licking her lips nervously. "I think... I think I love you. Too. I think I love you too."

For a moment or two, Luke didn't even know what to say or do. She knew that a confession so honest and hard to spit out deserved an equally true reaction. But she just didn't know what to do. So she nodded, tightening her arms around Michael's waist and burying her head in the crook of her neck. Kissing the skin softly, Luke mumbled between peppering kisses along her collarbone, "That makes two of us. I love you, and you... You said you love me."

Michael snorted, but a couple of happy tears were rolling down her cheeks. "First the 'Shrek' soundtrack, and now 'Barney'? _I love you, you love me, we're a happy family..._ "

Luke slapped Michael's arm playfully. She laughed, rolling her eyes and curling tighter around her. "Can we skip to the part when I get a ' _great big hug and a kiss from me to you_ '?"

"Well, I already said ' _I love you, too,_ " Michael smiled, "So, yeah, you get all the hugs and kisses from me to you."

Before Michael could start trailing the kisses she wanted to leave along Luke's neck, Luke was placing a hand on her chest and gently holding her away so she could say something. "Mikey," she started, trying her best to hold a steady gaze, "W-Will you... Be my girlfriend?"

Her heart was beating fast; much faster than she'd expected it to. She bit her lip nervously, unsure if she shouldn't have asked. But then Michael was crying softly and nodding, and all Luke could think of was her. "God, yes," she sighed, "Fuck yes, Hemmings. Fuck. Yes."

Luke didn't think she could be smiling any harder. "Go ahead with the hugs and kisses now, then, _girlfriend_."

And Michael did.

-

Support group the next day sucked ass, as usual. But not even the warden and his condescendingly sympathetic looks could affect Luke or Michael. They were trapped in their own world, holding hands and whispering things, both sweet and dirty, to one another. It was the silver lining to both of them.

-

Days after that seemed tasted like honey and sunshine and whatever else was probably from heaven. They felt beautiful and silky and made of bubble wrap. They felt secure, and security was something that both girls needed.

Slowly but surely, Michael's drinking slowed down. Each time she was feeling too much, or about to start thinking too much, she'd ring Luke, and the younger girl would happily go over and talk her out of it. Sometimes they didn't even have to talk; sometimes they just sat there and held hands or kissed for a couple hours, until Michael had calmed down.

But keeping things bottled was taking a toll on Luke. She'd been holding herself together for Michael for so long, and continuing to fake her way through the group support and therapy bullshit, and it was tiring her out. Michael needed her, she knew that, and she wasn't about to hold any grudges, but sometimes she just wanted to run away and be alone for as long as it took for her to be was alright again.

So, when she kind of downright exploded that Wednesday night, she figured it was long past overdue.

Luke was on her bed, scrolling through Instagram and listening to the new All Time Low album when she suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe; like something was sitting on her chest and pinning her the fuck down. She threw her phone onto the bed beside her, curling into the foetal position and sobbing into her knees.

Letting out choked sobs, she shook her head and curled tighter into herself. "No, no, no, _fuck no_ ," she whispered repeatedly. She wanted to call Michael, wanted a pair of arms around her and a smooth voice telling her that things would be okay. Yet, at the same time, she didn't want to bother her girlfriend.

Girlfriend. What a strange word. With that word, they'd promised to be there for one another on good and bad days. And Luke had stuck to her end of the bargain, she really had. And she knew that if she did call Michael, the green-eyed girl would go to her. And she would help. She would hold her close and call her 'baby' and make everything feel alright. But Luke just couldn't. She just. Couldn't.

"Luke, honey?" A new voice was ringing through the air, piercing through the atmosphere and shaking Luke's blurred vision. "Dinner's ready, you- Oh," the door opened and Luke's mother stood there, wide-eyed, "Sweetie, what happened, what's wrong?" She fussed, running her hands through her daughter's hair and cradling her close. "What can I do, honey, what can I do?" She asked when Luke refused to answer, only crying harder and shaking her head.

"Michael," she finally managed to choke out, despite the voice inside her head telling her to shut up and deal with it alone, "C-Call M-Michael, please, mum, I'm s-sorry."

After that, Luke honestly didn't know what happened. It felt like she had spaced out and everything was a blur. She knew her mum was saying something aside from calling Michael, but she couldn't figure out what it was. All she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears and the panting of her breath. And then she blacked out. (Or, really, she didn't know.)

All she knew was that when she was fully conscious, Michael was tracing patterns on the skin of her arm, singing softly under her breath and petting her hair.

"Mikey?" Luke coughed, her voice ragged from the all the sobbing she'd done. She winced as she began to prop herself up only for her elbows to buckle which caused her to collapse back on Michael's lap.

"Shh," the older girl whispered soothingly. She paused before speaking again, "How're you feeling?"

"Like that's the stupidest question to ask me right now," Luke replied sulkily, grunting and trying to sit up again.

Michael held her arm down, keeping her on her lap. "You need to rest right now; you're in no position to be getting up and going off in a huff," she scolded.

Luke stubbornly hauled herself onto the pillow beside Michael, in the face of 'I'm-Doing-Everything-But-What-You-Want'. She ignored Michael's eye roll, playing with the ends of her shirt.

"So." Michael said pointedly after a long silence. "What happened?"

Shrugging, Luke's jaw set as she lifted her eyes to meet Michael's. She flinched immediately, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt crash over her. She knew she should talk about it the same way Michael talked to her after every rough night, but.

But. Ugh.

"I... Couldn't breathe," Luke started, feeling her chest full up with water that wasn't actually there. "I just... Kinda zoned out, I guess? And I couldn't... I couldn't focus," she mumbled, shifting uncomfortably and staring back down at the bed. "Wanted to stop existing, or, I don't know, go to some other dimension until I felt okay again?"

Michael was nodding the whole time. "I understand," she said, slowly moving towards Luke the way someone would approach a wounded animal. She inched forward until she was laying beside Luke, holding her hand out.

Luke's heart skipped a beat the way it always did when Michael was around, regardless of how much time they'd already spent together or how long they'd known each other for. She took Michael's hand and rested her head on her shoulder, biting her lip. "I'm sorry," she apologised without knowing why. It just felt appropriate.

She felt dirty, and not in the sexy kind of way. She'd let Michael see the side of her that she didn't want _anyone_ to see, let alone the most important person in her life. It made her uncomfortable, to say the least, and she didn't know how to get her insides to stop fucking fidgeting.

Outside, in the real world, Michael was speaking, but Luke couldn't hear a thing. She blinked cluelessly, trying to get out of her own head, but nothing was working. She shook her head at Michael, feeling fresh tears begin to leak out of her eyes.

Michael's expression softened as she slid an arm around Luke's shoulders and pulled her closer, rubbing her back.

When Luke finally managed to break through whatever insanity was keeping her blurry, she felt too tired to talk about it anymore. She gave Michael's hand a small squeeze to let her know that she was awake and relatively alright before she kissed the lower part of her neck and drifted off.

Her hand was in Michael's the whole time, and all her dreams were quiet and tame.

-

Michael didn't let Luke out of her sight for a whole week after the incident. Luke didn't mind, of course, and she loved having her girlfriend around, but she also knew that it wasn't something that could continue on forever in terms of practicality.

"Well, then, you gotta promise me something," Michael said, raising a perfectly poised eyebrow when Luke brought the subject up one evening.

Luke hummed, looking up at Michael from where she was laying across her lap. "What?" She mumbled softly, stifling a yawn as she ran her fingers through the grass beside the mat they were sprawled out on.

Michael paused, stroking Luke's hair for a moment more, "You gotta promise to talk to me."

"Babe, I _am_ talking to you," Luke protested with a weak chuckle. Already her palms were beginning to sweat with nervousness.

Shaking her head, Michael sighed. "I know, but, I meant- C'mon, Luke, it's not fair. I... I opened up to you, remember? I let you in. I let you- You helped me. You're still helping me. But this isn't a relationship unless it's going both ways. And if all I am to you is some fucking project; something to be 'fixed'? I..." She trailed off frustratedly, cheeks flushed from her sudden outburst.

Luke sat up slowly, moving closer to Michael so she was tucked between her thighs. She put her hands gently on the older girl's waist as she bit her lip. "I'm sorry," was the first thing she said. "I love you," was the second. "I know it's been selfish of me, but I was- I swear, I was just trying to keep you from... I don't know, going back to drinking? You've been doing so, so well, and I thought-"

"You thought if you kept your problems to yourself, then there'd be no reason for me to feel stressed enough to turn back to my beloved alcohol." Michael spat. "Jesus Christ, Luke! I haven't touched a bottle for nearly a damn month now because of you. And now I'm learning that you've been holding shit in for I don't know how long, in order to make that happen for me." She took a deep breath as her eyes began welling up with tears, "D'you know how shit that makes me feel? I've... I've made you do this to yourself for me. Because of me."

Luke shook her head miserably, not even bothering to wipe away the tears that had begun streaming down her face halfway through what Michael was saying. "No, Mikey, that's not fair to you," she whispered, "I did this to myself. It wasn't your fault, none of this is on you, babe."

Michael just scoffed, rolling her eyes as she dried them and stared at the grass across the yard.

They sat in silence for a while after that, both of them trapped in a few words they hadn't said and thousands of words they wish they had. Eventually, it was Luke who broke the silence.

"I promise," she said quietly, taking Michael's hands in her own. Despite the cool weather, they were warm as always. Luke loved that. She loved how Michael was always warm, always soft, and always there for her. "I promise I'll talk to you and tell you how I'm feeling and all that."

Michael sighed, looking Luke in the eye and cupping the side of her face gently. "Not just how you're feeling. I'm not your therapist; that's why we go to that dumb ass support group. You can talk about your feelings there; with me, I want you to be honest. If you can tell me when you're feeling good, I want you to be able to tell me when you feel like crap and when things are too heavy on you."

Luke nodded, eager to get that sad expression off Michael's face. "I'll do that," she promised, "It'll take time, probably, but I'll do it. I'm sorry," she whimpered, unable to help herself any longer as she leaned into Michael. "I didn't mean for any of this."

"Oh, baby, of course you didn't," Michael frowned, holding Luke close to her and rubbing her back soothingly, "That's why we gotta talk about these things, yeah? So this doesn't happen again."

Luke made a vague 'mmhmph' sound from where she was tucked into Michael's chest. She loved the way it felt to be pressed up against the girl she loved; she adored the feeling of her soft skin against her own and the way Michael always smelled of something musky but deeply sweet. "And you're not Experiment 626, by the way," she said with a small smile when she finally pulled away and sat up straight, "I'm not with you just to fix you. I'm with you because I love you. I fucking love you so much," she breathed, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to Michael's lips.

"Good," Michael was grinning, her cheeks still flushed and eyes glossy from crying, but her voice was back to its usual cheeky tone, "'Cause I love you right back, you huge nerd."

-

Michael graduated three months after that.

It was a grand affair, since she was studying at a university of theatre and dramatics. The ceremony was boring and tedious, but Michael had Luke sitting by her side, and time passed however the two girls wanted it to whenever they were together.

When they finally called Michael onstage, Luke applauded louder than anyone else in the audience. As she watched her girlfriend with proud, starry eyes, Michael's mother tapped her shoulder and surprised her in a warm hug.

"Thank you," the older woman smiled with tears in her eyes, "I don't think she would've believed in herself... I don't think she would've done this without you, Luke."

Luke was left breathless, like her chest had become a makeshift gong that was being struck again and again, making her whole being vibrate and tremble. "It was all Michael," she protested, "She's a wonderful girl."

Michael's mum smiled knowingly, nodding in agreement as they watched Michael smile onstage, taking a picture with the dean. "But she needed a bit of a jumpstart, Luke, and that was you."

And then Michael was coming off the stage, looking like a million dollars in her dark blue gown and her hair curled in bright red waves over her shoulders. "I swear, I nearly tripped," she chuckled.

Before she could say anything else, Luke was wrapping her arms around her waist and peppering kisses along her neck. "I'm so fucking proud of you, Mikey," she whispered, squeezing her side gently, "So goddamn proud."

When Luke pulled away, her hand still clasped in the older girl's, she swore Michael's smile couldn't have been brighter.

They skipped the graduation party that was held later that evening, since Michael didn't see the need to socialise with people who couldn't care less about her. "Let's do something nice," her mum had suggested, "Like dinner. I'll take you girls out for dinner, yeah?"

And that was how they'd ended up in the fanciest restaurant in town, holding up glasses of champagne and toasting to the fact that despite it all, here they were. Despite Michael's rough childhood and even rougher adolescence, despite the drinking and the nights spent sobbing alone, here she was.

"My girl's a superstar," Luke smirked, placing her hand on Michael's thigh under the table.

Michael blushed, glancing nervously at her mother who was conveniently distracted by something on the menu. "You're the only star here," she mused back, pressing a lazy kiss on her girlfriend's neck.

Luke traced her fingers across Michael's leg, loving the way the redhead blushed and pushed her leg up to meet Luke's fingers.

"You are something else, Clifford. You really are."

-

Luke's convocation was four months later.

She walked up to the stage on shaky legs, the applause of the crowd deafening in her ears. She felt like she was about to collapse; blood was rushing through her veins so dizzily fast. Shaking the dean's hand and accepting the scroll and bouquet of flowers, she smiled through tears into the crowd, searching only for the faces of her family and her beloved, her Michael.

She hadn't expected to have made it through the end of the last semester, let alone to the day where she'd stand on the stage she was on now, holding the key to the door of her freedom. Of her future.

The moment she'd reached the bottom of the stairs, she ran as fast as her wretched pumps would carry her to where her family stood. She threw her flowers and mock certificate down onto the chairs and fell into their arms. She didn't even realise how hard she was sobbing until she felt her mother's hand rubbing her back to calm her down.

"You did it, Luke, sweetheart," her mother was saying with tears in her eyes, "You did it. And I couldn't be prouder. I couldn't be prouder, sweetheart."

Hugging each of her siblings and her parents one by one, thanking them and revelling in the glory of how far she'd come, Luke felt alive.

When she came to Michael, it was all she could do not to tackle the older girl to the ground and kiss her into oblivion right there and then. "You saved me," she mumbled against her lips, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's neck and pulling her as close as possible, "I wouldn't be here without you, Michael, fuck- I love you, I love you so much."

Michael kissed Luke, long and slow and deep. It tasted of salt from all the tears that they'd both cried: enough to last a lifetime. It tasted sweet like the way it felt every time they made love or even looked at each other in _that_ way. It tasted of the memories made and the memories forgotten.

"I love you too, Luke. Here's to the start of our lives- our real lives. It starts now. And I'm so glad we made it."


End file.
